


Roughhousing

by oneshallop



Category: Fence (Comics)
Genre: M/M, Rivals, grumpy and confused seiji, oblivious nicholas
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-23
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:42:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23778580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oneshallop/pseuds/oneshallop
Summary: “You construct intricate rituals which allow you to touch the skin of other men,” Bobby says, and it’s clear from the way he does so that he’s quoting someone.Nicholas scratches the back of his neck. “Is that from English class? What does it mean?”
Relationships: Nicholas Cox/Seiji Katayama
Comments: 13
Kudos: 31





	1. Chapter 1

Nicholas lunges. Almost pure reflex, there’s nothing but the singular purpose of his movement. The blunted pressure of Jay’s suit bends his sabre, and the trill of the whistle ends their duel.

He’s still grinning from ear to ear as he pulls his helmet off. Nicholas is the kind of person who’s never aware of the world around him—he moves through it, completely blunt and good-natured and oblivious—but as he scrapes his sweaty hair back from his forehead, he knows that he’s being watched.

“Thinking about staving off the bet?” Nicholas throws over his shoulder.

Seiji’s not impressed. He doesn’t deign to respond to Nicholas’s taunt, but just folds his arms and turns away.

“Hey,” Nicholas shouts. Seiji ignores him.

Something hot flares up in Nicholas’ gut. He catches up with Seiji in the locker room, twists a fist in his shirt to force him to a grinding halt. Seiji’s really irritated now—the eyebrow has climbed into its most arching and imperious height. Later, Nicholas will think that it was the eyebrow that really made him commit, despite how uncomfortable he was at the time.

Without taking his eyes off Seiji, Nicholas fumbles for the edge of his shirt and pulls it off. It dangles at the ends of his fingers; a skinny rhombus, swinging. The air is cold across his bare torso.

“Take it then,” Nicholas says. Unsaid are the words, _I dare you._

Seiji’s face pinches, like someone has pulled the drawstrings of Nicholas’ gym bag. It turns his mouth into a little white prune, teeth just barely peeking through. But he takes the shirt. Nicholas falters, steps back—watches as Seiji plucks at his own Henley. Seiji moves deliberately, almost delicately. He slides an arm back inside his shirt, hooks it carefully over his head.

 _He doesn’t want to mess up his hair,_ Nicholas thinks incredulously.

It’s instinct to lunge forward and push down over Seiji with both hands. He does this hard enough that Seiji’s hair pushes back, a soft dome under the shirt.

“What are you doing?” Seiji cries, outraged.

Seiji’s got one arm trapped inside his own shirt, but he does his level best with the other. Nicholas grunts as the blow drives all the breath from him. Grimly, he shoves his hand in under the shirt.

Hot skin. Seiji flinches away. His muscles contract into hard contours, all retracting from the big clumsiness of Nicholas’s hand. The way Seiji’s splayed all along his front, Nicholas can feel him splutter, little shuddering movements. He can feel Seiji’s breath on his face.

Harvard startles them. “Boys.”

It’s like a dash of cold water. Nicholas rips his arms free from Seiji and shoves him away. Both of them are wide-eyed and panting. Seiji’s hair, normally so carefully coiffured into place, is wild—completely flattened across the top and pulled up in tufts across the back. The product that Nicholas watches Seiji comb into his hair every morning is now holding the entire bird’s nest securely in place.

Harvard is watching them, his face perfectly placid. “Everything under control here?”

“Of course,” Nicholas replies, and gives a rapid flash of teeth. “Everything’s good. Just catching up on something from chemistry. No biggie.”

“Chemistry,” Harvard repeats, deadpan. “Right. Well, you boys better hurry up. Coach is getting us started on cool-downs.”

The door swings after Harvard, leaving the room with a tense silence. Seiji slants a gaze across at him. There are angry red splotches burning through his cheeks.

“I—you—there was no need to—” Seiji splutters.

Nicholas stretches his arms behind his head. “No need to?”

“You’re impossible,” Seiji snarls. “And give me that.” He snatches Nicholas’s shirt from his hands and pulls it roughly over his head.

They’re close in height, but Seiji wears his muscle comparatively leaner. Nicholas’s shirt is just a bit too big for him, draping down the fine bones of his shoulders. Grinning from ear to ear, Nicholas follows his teammate back to the gym.


	2. Chapter 2

Have deleted this chapter because I am re-working it :)


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